While the rest of us were left standing there with our mouths wide open over that message—which completely twisted The Vertex's mission and credited it with some absurd power to make the masses rebel against God knows what—the only one who started laughing was Lucius.
"Well, this completely blew up in our faces," he said. "It's gotten so far out of hand that now my own father is demanding we hold a press conference. Specifically, he wants Carmilla to speak on behalf of the five of us. He thinks you can give everyone a fresh, convincing explanation for the questions the journalists are going to throw at us."
I said yes without even thinking about it. You see, my friend, my mind was completely consumed by a single obsession: figuring out whether Killian and Evangelina were hiding an affair from me. I had even made an imaginary checklist of their traits to see if the pieces fit. For instance: they both claim to love me, and they're both absolutely gorgeous. Evangelina didn't even care when Bruce—her own unattainable crush—had a brief fling with me; in fact, she was the one who suggested it.
I'm starting to think I'm turning into someone I don't want to be. Why would I even doubt them? The three of us have been in bed together, and they only had eyes for me. Yes, I would have noticed right away if Killian desired her with genuine affection or if she wanted him to take her. No, no—that didn't happen. And as confusing as the video Bruce showed me was, I told myself: Hold on, Carmilla. If the detective hadn't planted those suspicions in your head, that video wouldn't have looked so suspicious. After all, they weren't exactly making out in secret.
Of course, in my mind, they were guilty one second and completely innocent saints the next. But what bothered me most was a new thought beginning to take root. I thought: they're both brilliant and obsessed with power… isn't it possible they're planning their moves together? What if everything that catches us off guard—from the TV broadcast to the murders—is nothing new to them, but rather part of a meticulously crafted plan bringing them closer each day to the top of Longfield-Bance, the most powerful economic empire in the world?
I don't want to become paranoid, my friend, but Evangelina can see things four moves ahead; she's the smartest woman on earth. And truth be told, I hated thinking she might be plotting something, but I had to be sure. When she lived with the Vanderecks, she ended up as the queen of the place while they ended up… dead. Differences aside, I don't want to end up with a shard of glass driven into my neck while—oh, what a coincidence—she crowns herself and rules over everyone.
Fortunately, I was distracted when a young postal worker stepped into the room and said urgently, "I'd really appreciate it if you could say hello to my father. Could you do that for me?"
Like a complete space cadet, I replied, "Of course! Take out your phone and I'll record a video for him, but promise you won't upload it until we've left the castle. What's your name, and what's your father's name?"
He answered calmly, as if expecting me to take notes. "I'm Colin Munro. You'll find my father at the Bon Accord market in Sauchen, Aberdeenshire, right in the heart of the Highlands. His name is Kenneth Munro. Greet him for me and tell him I'm sorry I lied to him—that he was absolutely right: my fiancée's father really was a dangerous man, just like he always warned me. Tell him I love him, and that he can find me beneath the white cross and the red moon."
And when I saw the worried expressions on Lucius and Killian's faces beside me, the truth hit me: they were both watching me talk to myself, having a very animated conversation with someone who wasn't there—at least, someone completely invisible to them.
But to my eyes, that boy, Colin, was still standing right in front of me, pleading with his hands clasped together and a single tear tracing down his cheek. So, watching him slowly and painfully fade away, I turned to the others.
"I think it's time to lay all our secrets on the table," I said. "I'll start. I see dead people and flashes of the future, courtesy of Clara the psychic, who passed them on to me through physical contact. Right now, I'm looking at a spirit. He's a very young man, wearing a simple gray jacket with subtle red trim and matching gray trousers. He has an oval, gold-toned metal badge with the words 'Royal Mail' and the royal monogram. I have no doubt about it: when he was alive, he worked for the post office. His name is Colin Munro. That's how he introduced himself, and he asked me to find his father at a local market to deliver a message. He's fading now. He keeps repeating: 'Beneath the white cross and the red moon.' Oh… wait, I can see it now! The back of his head is completely destroyed, like it was blown apart by a gunshot or smashed in with a miner's pickaxe."
Lucius said, "You're joking, right? Come on, Carmilla, don't buy into this nonsense. It's probably just a trick of the mind brought on by all this stress. Don't worry, I know the best psychiatrists and—"
I cut him off. "I'm sharper than ever. Listen to what I just learned! We carry our secrets and the wrongs we commit in life into the afterlife. Poor Colin. His clothes look straight out of the seventies, and he's consumed by regret for not listening to his father. So let me give you all a piece of advice: always tell the truth and never lie to the people you love."
Killian wrapped his arms around me and kissed me, though he noticed how cold I felt.
"Have you seen anything else?" he asked, a trace of concern in his voice. "Something that's going to make you angry with me in the future? Because I feel like whatever it is, you're already making me pay for it now."
I didn't answer him. I just asked, "Who's taking me to Sauchen, Aberdeenshire, to that Bon Accord market?"
Killian didn't volunteer. Did that make him a suspect in cheating on me? No, my friend—but understand that it's incredibly hard to bring it up without sounding like a complete idiot. I'd rather wait until I have solid proof instead of mere suspicions. Then maybe I'll walk away gracefully, like a refined lady who knows she can no longer trust him… or maybe I'll stay just to turn their lives into a living hell. I don't know. I've never dealt with anything like this before, and I don't know how I'd react. If their secret romance is real—if he and Evangelina actually love each other—I don't know what will happen.
Bruce spoke up. "Come on, I'll take you. It'll take us two or three hours round trip. Is there a vehicle around here?"
Killian told him to take the 1983 Argyll Turbo GT. It was metallic gray, and of course, it was a vintage supercar that practically screamed: I'm ridiculously expensive!
Bruce grinned as he floored the gas pedal of that beast, making it roar along the winding Highland roads.
When we arrived, the place was packed with people bundled up in heavy coats and surrounded by tractors. We scanned the crowd for an older man and soon spotted a supervisor putting the finishing touches on the exhibition. I approached him carefully, noting the deep wrinkles lining his face.
When he noticed me, I said, "Are you Kenneth Munro? I've come on behalf of your son, Colin."
He nodded and replied gruffly, "Move along. This isn't the place to dig up the past."
I explained, "Your son Colin told me to tell you he's sorry he lied to you—that you were absolutely right. His fiancée's father was a very bad man, and he was the one who murdered him."
By the time I finished speaking, I was crying. I'm terrible at this. I asked him if the phrase "beneath the white cross and the red moon" meant anything to him.
Choking back emotion but still guarded, the old man said it didn't. He told me that back in 1979, his son Colin had won the heart of the prettiest girl in town—a hopeless romantic whose only gifts were a charming smile and sheer courage. The boy wasn't afraid of anything, but everyone in Scotland knew his sweetheart's father was a sinister man.
Finishing his account, he said, "Colin left for his girlfriend's house one Thursday and was never seen again. We never found his body."
We exchanged phone numbers, and on our drive back… we saw it. In the distance, our road intersected with another, forming a stark white cross against the landscape. Directly above it, near the horizon, a deep reddish moon was rising.
When we pulled over at the spot, there was nothing but low grass and no sign of a burial site. And yet, something inside me told me he was right there. The certainty hit me minutes later in a horrifying mental flash of the young postman. I saw exactly how they split open the back of his head with a shovel, and how four men dumped his body into a trench on the right side of the road.
Bruce called a contact in the police force to give them the coordinates of the body. An hour later, the area was crawling with officers. But by then, we were already watching them fade away in the rearview mirror.
I didn't want to go back to the castle just yet. I felt proud of having helped, but an overwhelming sadness lingered. I needed to resolve my doubts about them.
As Bruce drove, I looked at him. "Do you know what bothers me the most?"
With a smile that highlighted his dimples and a black shirt stretched to its limit over his bulging biceps, he replied, "No, I don't. I'm guessing it's the betrayal."
"No," I said. "What bothers me is that if what you're saying is true, Killian, Evangelina, and I are going to end up estranged. But if it's a lie, I'm going to kill you. So no matter how this turns out, I'm the one who suffers."
Bruce slammed on the brakes, placing a hand on my thigh. "Weren't you trying to learn how to drive?"
I nodded. He looked out at the deserted road and added, "Isn't this the perfect car and the perfect place to push it to the limit?"
I admitted I was scared. Like a king reclining on his throne, he smiled down at me. "Don't be scared, little girl. Come on, sit on my lap. I'll help you."